The Truth About Cinco de Mayo (It’s Not Mexican Independence Day)

Every May 5th, restaurants roll out margarita specials, partygoers don fake mustaches and sombreros, and beer companies cash in with festive commercials. But ask the average person what Cinco de Mayo actually celebrates, and most won’t know—or worse, they’ll say it’s Mexico’s Independence Day. It’s not. And it never was.

Cinco de Mayo commemorates the Battle of Puebla, which took place on May 5, 1862. It was the day Mexican forces, outnumbered and under-resourced, defeated the mighty French army. It wasn’t a war-ending victory. In fact, France eventually captured Mexico City and installed an emperor. But for one day, in one city, against all odds—Mexico won. And that mattered.

At the time, France was considered unbeatable. They had one of the strongest armies in the world, and Mexico was politically unstable and financially devastated. Napoleon III saw an opportunity to expand French influence in the Americas while the United States was too busy fighting its own Civil War to intervene. The Battle of Puebla was meant to be a quick and easy win. It wasn’t. Mexican General Ignacio Zaragoza and his ragtag forces held the line and sent the French retreating.

This wasn’t Mexico’s independence. That had already been won more than 50 years earlier, in 1810. But the Battle of Puebla became symbolic—a proud moment of resistance, unity, and national identity, especially for indigenous and working-class Mexicans who fought for their land.

Yet somehow, that nuance got lost in translation.

In the U.S., Cinco de Mayo started gaining traction in the 1960s and 70s, especially in Chicano communities. It was seen as a cultural celebration of heritage, resistance, and identity. But over time, the deeper meaning got buried under marketing campaigns, tequila brands, and frat party flyers.

Today, for many Americans, Cinco de Mayo is little more than an excuse to drink—and the holiday’s original context is almost completely ignored.

But why does that matter?

Because rewriting history—even accidentally—strips people of their truth. And for a holiday rooted in resistance, it’s ironic how easily its meaning has been erased. Recognizing what Cinco de Mayo is really about doesn’t ruin the celebration—it deepens it. It connects the joy to the struggle. It adds weight to the music and meaning to the pride.

So no, it’s not Mexican Independence Day. It’s something else entirely. It’s a reminder that underdogs can win. That culture survives. That victory isn’t always about conquering—it’s about refusing to be conquered.

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Cinco de Mayo

Now that we’ve cleared up the biggest misconception, let’s go deeper. Cinco de Mayo may be widely recognized in the U.S., but much of what we think we know about it is either half-true or completely wrong. Here are five things you probably didn’t know about Cinco de Mayo—and why they matter.

1. It’s Barely Celebrated in Most of Mexico

Walk the streets of Mexico City on May 5 and you won’t find parades, decorations, or massive celebrations. In fact, outside of Puebla—where the battle actually happened—the day usually passes like any other. There’s no national day off, no fireworks, no huge parties.

In Puebla itself, the day is marked with historical reenactments, cultural festivities, and pride—but it’s more solemn than wild. Cinco de Mayo is a regional holiday in Mexico, not a national one. The over-the-top celebrations you see each year? That’s mostly the U.S.—not Mexico.

2. It Was Popularized in the U.S. for Political Reasons

The rise of Cinco de Mayo in the U.S. didn’t start with beer companies. It began with Chicano activists in the 1960s, who used the holiday to promote Mexican-American pride and resistance during the civil rights movement. The underdog spirit of the Battle of Puebla became a powerful symbol for communities fighting racism, inequality, and marginalization.

Cinco de Mayo was never just about a battle—it was a rallying cry. But over time, commercial interests took over. What began as cultural affirmation slowly became corporate exploitation.

3. It’s Been a Marketing Goldmine Since the 1980s

By the late 1980s and early 1990s, U.S. beer and liquor companies realized that Cinco de Mayo was a goldmine. It was a “Mexican holiday” that most Americans didn’t understand—but loved to celebrate. And that made it perfect for branding.

Since then, sales of tequila, beer, and Mexican-themed products skyrocket every May. It’s one of the most lucrative alcohol marketing periods of the year—right up there with St. Patrick’s Day and the Super Bowl. The cultural meaning? Often ignored, if not erased.

4. The U.S. Once Celebrated It for Strategic Reasons

During the American Civil War, the Battle of Puebla held symbolic weight in the U.S. too. Many Americans—especially abolitionists and Union supporters—saw Mexico’s victory against European imperialism as a win for democracy. Some newspapers even covered it extensively.

Why? Because if France had succeeded in Mexico, it might have supported the Confederacy and expanded its influence in the Americas. For a brief moment, Cinco de Mayo wasn’t just a Mexican win—it was seen as a democratic win across borders.

5. General Zaragoza, the Hero of Puebla, Was Born in Texas

Yes, really. Ignacio Zaragoza, the Mexican general who led troops to victory at Puebla, was born in Goliad, Texas—when it was still part of Mexico. His story bridges both countries and complicates the idea of national identity.

Today, Zaragoza is remembered as a Mexican hero. But the fact that his birthplace is now part of the U.S. is a reminder that borders shift, cultures overlap, and history is never as clean-cut as we’d like to believe.

Why Cinco de Mayo Still Matters Today

In 2025, it’s easy to write off Cinco de Mayo as just another party date on the American calendar—an excuse for drink specials, taco-themed merch, and vaguely “Mexican” decorations. But beneath the noise, the heart of this holiday still beats. And it still matters.

Because at its core, Cinco de Mayo is about resistance. It’s about a group of underprepared, outgunned people standing up against one of the strongest armies in the world—and winning. That kind of victory, no matter how short-lived or symbolic, resonates far beyond the battlefield. It represents something every generation needs: hope that the impossible is survivable.

For many Mexican-Americans and Chicanos, Cinco de Mayo is a reminder of that fight. It’s not just about what happened in Puebla in 1862—it’s about what continues to happen in classrooms, workplaces, and politics across the U.S. It’s about reclaiming heritage in a world that still tries to water it down. It’s about identity, pride, and visibility in a country that has often ignored or erased both.

The irony is that the louder the mainstream celebration gets, the more the meaning is at risk of being lost. But that doesn’t mean the holiday should be abandoned. It means it should be reclaimed. Recentered. Celebrated with awareness, respect, and truth.

That doesn’t mean no music. No dancing. No celebration. It just means remembering what—and who—you’re raising a glass for.

Cinco de Mayo is a reminder that culture is more than cuisine. That heritage is more than decor. That history is worth telling right—even when it’s been misunderstood for decades.

And maybe, in a time when so many people feel outmatched by systems bigger than them—political, economic, personal—the story of the Battle of Puebla is exactly the kind of reminder we need. That even when the odds are stacked, you don’t roll over. You dig in. You fight. And sometimes, you win.

So this May 5th, whether you're Mexican, Mexican-American, or just someone who wants to understand the holiday beyond the clichés—take a moment. Read the history. Share it. Talk about it. Let it deepen the celebration instead of replacing it.

Because Cinco de Mayo was never meant to be shallow. It’s just been misunderstood.

And now you know better.